As use of overdose antidotes spreads, is extreme empathy for addicts normalizing the opioid culture?

A homeless woman and her boyfriend leave their sleeping site in downtown Chicago to head to the West Side to buy heroin in 2015. (Nancy Stone / Chicago Tribune)

Close your eyes for a moment and imagine something that is almost unbearable.

A 24-year-old former suburban woman is living on the streets of downtown Chicago. She’s sleeping atop a piece of cardboard, using a small drawstring bag as a makeshift pillow. Everything else she owns is in a red suitcase near her feet.

Advertisement

Hordes of tourists walk past her every day. But she doesn’t mind. She considers her “home” on the steps of the Heald Square Monument an improvement over the abandoned buildings she used to live in on the West Side.

After multiple arrests, being approached by a pimp and twice being robbed at gunpoint, she has become somewhat jaded compared with when she first hit the streets at age 19.

The West Side had its advantages, though. At least she was close to where she bought her heroin. Later she and her boyfriend had to panhandle in the Loop all day and then drag the suitcase to the CTA Green Line for the trip to the West Side to feed their $40-a-day habit.

This is a true story, taken from the news pages of the Chicago Tribune. And, for too many parents, it strikes uncomfortably close to home. The thought of someone you love living like that is simply heart-wrenching.

The heroin epidemic that is sweeping America no longer seems to have racial, economic or geographic barriers. With increasing numbers of white people, including affluent ones, shooting up or sniffing opioids, parents have good reason to wonder if the next drug overdose that police respond to could be their own child’s.

As the fear mounts, many Americans — including parents, lawmakers, health professionals and policymakers — have responded with resounding empathy toward such drug addicts. Perhaps it is time to ask ourselves if we have gone too far.

While we have made great progress in removing the stigma from opioid addiction — a vast improvement over how we handled the crack epidemic in the 1980s — new research suggests that we might be inadvertently making the problem worse.

Instead of helping our loved ones overcome addiction, are we instead normalizing the drug culture? In our zeal to lay all the blame on pharmaceutical companies, doctors and illegal drug dealers for the opioid crisis that causes some 115 deaths a day in the U.S., are we relieving the addicts of responsibility for their own actions?

What began with a sensible requirement that emergency medical responders be equipped and trained to administer naloxone, medication used to reverse an opioid overdose, has mushroomed into making the antidote nearly as easy to obtain as aspirin.

Recently, Elk Grove Village announced it would become one of the few towns in the U.S. to put the nasal spray form of naloxone in public places such as libraries, park district buildings and the village hall.

Others have suggested that the general public should consider carrying Narcan so people can help an overdosing stranger when in need.

Of course, that’s a good thing when it comes to saving lives. But in the long run, could we be encouraging addicts to take more risks? Does taking away the fear of injury or death — which has long been the best deterrent to drug use — make us enablers? Does it place too much the responsibility on people who do not use drugs?

A recent study suggests that state laws providing wider access to naloxone may unintentionally be doing just that.

Researchers at Texas A&M University and the University of Wisconsin-Madison found that while increased access to naloxone saves lives, it also might unintentionally increase opioid abuse. The study released in March said that easy access to naloxone actually makes riskier opioid use more appealing to drug users. In addition, it allows active drug users to continue using drugs, thus increasing the number of opioid users.

Advertisement

Another side effect, the study found, was an increase in thefts by drug users who need to fund their habit.

Like many families, mine has not been spared having at least one member who suffered from addiction. What others tend not to understand is how cunning these people can be. It doesn’t matter how they ended up using the drug; it becomes their main focus in life. Though the love for them might remain, their addiction often makes them hard to like.

As their addiction progresses, they need more and more of the drug to feel normal. They will push the limits for a high, taking their lives closer to the edge each time they use.

Many years ago, I was in the home of a relative whose husband was a heroin addict, and hanging on a wall in the hallway was a poster that read: “Signs of a drug overdose.” It went on to list symptoms such as passing out, disorientation, shallow breathing, vomiting and muscle spasms. It instructed them to call 911 immediately.

It makes sense that people would empathize with the young woman described above, to help her and keep her safe. Some advocates are pushing for “safe consumption” sites in Chicago, where addicts can take their drugs without fear. But government-sanctioned shooting galleries won’t solve the drug crisis.

Placing so much attention on accommodating the drug addict does nothing to address the underlying problem of addiction. The truth is that America doesn’t know how to fix this opioid problem and meanwhile, it’s getting worse. But we cannot allow Narcan to become a crutch that allows us to shirk our responsibility to figure it out.

Of course, throwing drug users in jail isn’t the answer either. But there has to be something between locking addicts up and giving them a license to use drugs freely.

We need to work with our policymakers to find some answers quickly. Or we’ll risk turning into a nation where shooting up on the steps of the Heald Square Monument is as normal as sipping a bottle of water on a hot summer day.